


this love came back to me

by midwestwind



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Episode Tag, F/M, Fluff, Mentions of Canonical Character Death, Reunion, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-06-07 08:37:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6797002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midwestwind/pseuds/midwestwind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He drinks in the sight of her and Emma can’t deny she does the same.</p>
<p>(What had she told Regina all that time ago? She doesn’t yearn? Ha.)</p>
<p>Post-5x21</p>
            </blockquote>





	this love came back to me

**Author's Note:**

> i rarely write canon for this show but i really couldn't resist. originally posted to tumblr. enjoy!

Once they’re able to let each other go - once hands have stopped roaming and grasping, lips have stopped desperately seeking the press of skin - Killian takes a moment to say goodbye to Robin. Emma knows they’d been, if not friends, friendly. She’s loath to remove her hands as he steps away, and Killian ducks back in for one more brush of his lips near her hairline, but they both know this isn’t the place. He moves towards the freshly turned dirt, the large wooden coffin suspended over the hole in the earth, and she remembers, suddenly.

 

While he’s distracted, she rushes over to the grave with his name etched into the stone above it. The fresh roses seem a little brighter now. ( _ Vaguely, she wonders if there’s still something - someone - buried under the dirt. A concern for another time, never probably. _ ) Emma knows, she  _ knows _ , it’s not the place or time for her bliss, but she’s having a hard time holding it down. It’d been a mere few days without Killian and she had missed him more with every passing second, as if the pain would never dull or lessen, but continue to grow.

 

The metal is cold against her skin when she picks it up, frosted with the cold spring rain falling around her. Before she can make it back to Killian, he finds her. She turns and his brow is pinched, in pain or the self-blame that is always so achingly similar to her own she’s not sure, so she slips her empty fingers into his. It shakes him, eyes moving from his name branded into the stone to her face.

 

He drinks in the sight of her and Emma can’t deny she does the same. ( _ What had she told Regina all that time ago? She doesn’t yearn? Ha. _ ) His fingers link through hers, warm skin and cool metal contrasting against her nerve endings. She wants to kiss him again, she wants to gather him close and never let him leave again. The sight of Robin’s grave behind her stops her.

 

“What’s that?” He asks, indicating the item she’s just picked back up. The flask is clutched tightly in her fingers, tucked against her coat, but she lifts it for him to see.

 

“Your memory starting to go, old man?” She teases because it’s easy. Because he’s standing in front of her and she’s ( _ mostly _ ) certain he’s real. Because she wants to kiss him, but she waits because suddenly, suddenly there’s  _ time _ .

 

Killian grins, releasing her hand to take the flask from her, returning it to where it belongs. ( _ The pocket above his heart, she notes. Where she belongs as well, perhaps. _ ) “Forgive me, love, a bit of death will do that to a man.”

 

She shouldn’t laugh, it’s not funny in the slightest, even if he’s smirking at her. The knowledge doesn’t stop the delighted snort from coming out of her. Killian finds her hand again and she leads him away, towards where her parents and Henry had disappeared. She’s supposed to meet them, and about thirty other grieving residents, at Granny’s.

 

Instead, she deviates suddenly, tugging Killian in the direction of her home. ( _ Their home, she reminds herself with a certain level of bliss. _ ) He manages to explain, as thoroughly as he can the choices of a god, while she manages to keep her hands to herself on the walk. Emma explains what he’d missed and the events leading up to Robin’s death.

 

They make it to the porch before she loses any sense of self control, her lips seeking his desperately as Killian gives as good as he gets. His hand can’t find a place to stay as he backs her against the door and Emma knows this may be all they get for the moment. Her presence will be missed and his will need to be explained, but she’s going to take fifteen minutes to kiss the man she loves, town be damned. ( _ She’d take thirty and do more than that if she thought she’d get away with it. _ )

 

“You ready to move in with me yet, Captain?” She asks, raggedly, in between feverish kisses. His lips are trailing down her neck, exposed by her now open coat, and he hums against her pulse. Emma shivers, fingers tugging at his hair.

 

“Thought you’d never ask,” he comments lightly, lips dragging against her skin as he seeks out her mouth again. Emma denies him, tilting her head to give attention to the sharp line of his jaw. ( _ She brands the word “hero” over his skin and he groans at the sound, head tipping back deliciously. _ ) His hand is inside her coat now, skimming up the side of her top and dangerously close to escalating things.

 

Her phone trilling reminds her why they can’t. ( _ She’s honestly still on the fence about it, even as her mother’s name lights up the screen _ .) Killian presses his forehead against her shoulder and she skims her fingers through his hair, takes a few more minute to adjust to the sudden rightness of her world, even as she accounts for the deterioration of other’s.

 

“We need to meet everyone and explain things,” she tells him, reluctantly. Emma is selfish, she’s selfish and private and she doesn’t want to share his time. Not after being so harshly reminded how important their time is. ( _ They have time, though, she reminds herself. She won’t waste it anymore _ .) He nods against her shoulder, hair catching against her collar and sticking up when he pulls away. She lets out a laugh - high and delighted - and pats it down for him.

 

Granny’s might not go well. Emma can’t imagine Robin’s loved ones responding well to Killian’s reappearance. She doesn’t care, though. Remember, Emma is selfish and she’s having a hard time quelling that today. She reaches out for him again and he falls into her space easily, fingers linking as his hook rests at her hip.

 

“I love you,” she says and it falls so easily from her lips now. Neither of them are dying, there are no immediate dangers surrounding them. She’s said it more in the past few days than she ever has, she thinks, both to his face and the memory of him. It’s not scary anymore, not an emotion to hide away from, it’s simply a fact.

 

Killian sways into her as he echoes the sentiment, voice as rough as his beard brushing against her cheek. She convinces herself, eventually, to leave the house - they’d only made it to the entryway, she should be embarrassed, but is having a hard time conjuring it - and share him with everyone else. His hand is steadfast in hers, pulse thudding strongly against her fingers. 

 

( _ Time, she thinks on a sudden wave of bliss, they have time _ .)


End file.
